


Memoir

by Zorro_sci



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Memory, So he's not giving it his best, Tony POV, Tony doesn't really want to do this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 19:39:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2519477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zorro_sci/pseuds/Zorro_sci
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is told to write a memoir to make the public more receptive to him.  This was what he wrote . . . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memoir

**Made of Iron**

By Tony Stark

Chapter 1: The Beginning

Like all great men, or really all men, (and women for that matter too), my life began when I was born. For me, that beginning took place on May 20, 1969, or so I'm told. I actually have no memory of that day, but I'm counting that as a good thing, since being born seems like it would be pretty traumatic. 

At any rate, I was born to Howard and Maria Stark, and all of the country sat up and took notice. My parents were some of the richest people in the country, Stark Industries was one of the best known companies in the nation, and my father's work with the Manhattan Project, and several other big name projects, had made him a household name. My birth was heralded as if I were some sort of prince of industry. The heir apparent to the business empire my father had build.

After that my childhood was like a lot of people's childhoods, only in many ways it wasn't. I was largely raised by the butler. I played like a lot of kids, but I played with moving parts and circuits, and I made my first robot by the time I was seven. Like most people, I went to school, only I was shipped off to boarding school and I went to classes with people far older than me. I graduated from high school by age fourteen, and then started at MIT with people four or more years my senior. 

Don't get me wrong, my childhood certainly had its perks, but there were many times I wished I knew what it felt like to be "normal." To actually have my parents pick me up after school, and eat a family meal together without having to clear it with both my mother's and my father's personal secretaries.

Chapter 2: The End of an Era

When I was twenty-one my parents died in a car accident. For many it marked the end of an era. The king of American innovation was dead. For me, it was a confusing time. On the one hand I grieved and mourned for my parents; on the other hand I wasn't quite sure how to feel. I felt like I hadn't ever really known them.

On the business side of things, I was originally deemed too young to become CEO, so my father's righthand man and friend took over for a while. However, before long it was decided that I was ready, and I became the youngest CEO of a Fortune 500 company in the United States. 

I was pretty good at it too. My designs advanced the field of weapons technology in leaps and bounds, leaving all the competition behind. People were starting to take notice, and soon _I_ was the one they were talking about. Sometimes for the right reasons, sometimes for the wrong ones. Not that I ever much cared at the time. The important thing to me was that the company was doing well, and people were talking about it and about me. Plus, it didn't hurt that with that came fame, fortune and plenty of parties and woman.

Chapter 3: Afghanistan

Most of you know that things changed for me after I was captured in Afghanistan. If you want details about what happened, look it up on YouTube. There are still plenty of news reports and other videos about what happened. I'd rather not get into it, other than to say that it was awful. Well, and it helped me rethink some things. 

That's why when I returned I decided that Stark Industries would no longer make weapons. I had seen firsthand how they all too often fell into the wrong hands. I also decided that what I did should help my fellow man, so I became Iron Man, and Stark Industries shifted its focus to clean energy. 

Chapter 4: Iron Man

When I became Iron Man, it was with a mission. That mission was, first to get my weapons out of the hands of terrorists, and then to take on anyone who dared to prey on the little guy. To level the playing field, if you will. I made serious progress toward this goal, and people once again started to take notice.

Like everything I did, this was met with both hearty approval and harsh criticism. Congress tried to get their hands on the suit, and several other people came after me in order to try to steal the suit or the technology that powered it. In the end all of them failed, though the army did end up with War Machine, which is almost as good as the Iron Man suit. Almost. Sorry, Rhodey.

Chapter 5: The Avengers

I would love to tell you all about how the Avenger got together, and all of the things we did leading up the the Invasion of Manhattan, however, all of that is classified. All I can tell you is that Captain America, Black Widow, Hawkeye, Thor, Hulk and I didn't necessarily get along from the outset.

Don't get me wrong, Hulk and I were solid. We just understood each other. The rest of the team took a little longer to warm up to me, and quite frankly, it took me awhile to be ready to work with them. I work alone by nature, so learning to be part of a team wasn't the most natural. Still, we managed it, and when the threat came, we banded together and overcame it. You all know that though. It was the battle seen round the world.

So, we kicked alien butt, and then we went out for Shwarma. It just seemed like the right thing to do.

Chapter 6: Things Gained and Things Lost

After the Battle of Manhattan, many things changed for me. I rebuilt Stark Tower with floors to house the Avengers. While most of them decided they would come by and crash every once in a while, Dr. Bruce Banner, gamma physicist extraordinaire and sometimes green, rage monster, moved in full time. Thus I gained an awesome roommate and a lab partner. 

On the other hand, the whole thing with the Mandarin happened, (google it if you missed it. Living it once was bad enough without retelling it), and I lost my house in Malibu, and shortly after that whole mess, my girlfriend. Apparently she wasn't too fond of how I handled the situation.

Well, plus a roommate and minus a girlfriend, plus a renovated a tower and minus a Malibu mansion. I was ready to start the next chapter if my life.

Chapter 7: Late Nights in the Lab

After the whole Mandarin fiasco I returned to New York. As soon as I stepped foot back into the tower, Bruce had my back. Well, except that one time where he fell asleep . . .but anyway, I was a bit of a mess, especially after Pepper left me, and he helped pick up the pieces. 

He cooked for me to make sure I ate, he worked with me and made sure I didn't work too long without a break, and sometimes he even dragged me to my bed when he knew I needed to sleep. More than anything though, he was a friend. He listened to my rambling, helped me with my projects, and tolerated, (or even enjoyed), my snarky sense of humor. Working in the lab with him quickly became one of my favorite activities.

There were times where we would work so long that we were both exhausted, and then we would completely let down our guard around each other. It was those times I enjoyed most. Both of us are cautious people, and with reason. We've both had our share of betrayal and pain, so it gives us reason to hold off on trusting others. With each other, that trust was given fairly quickly, and neither of us ever doubted it. Those unguarded moments showed just how genuine our friendship was, and how safe we were with each other.

Through those nights of whispered secrets I got to know the real Bruce Banner. The one only a few people have ever had the privilege of seeing, and I have to say it was worth it. He's the most amazing man I've ever met, and I only wish I had met him sooner. I think my life would have been a lot less lonely if I had.

Chapter 8: Brucie

As you might have guessed by the way I gushed about my lab partner in the last chapter, after a while, Bruce and I moved our relationship on to something more than friendship. The change was very gradual. Glacial, in fact. Our relationship developed so slowly I was unaware anything was happening at all for the first few months.

I knew that I wanted Bruce, but I thought he was rejecting me. I thought I was making my intentions clear. I would touch him far more often than was necessary when I was around him, stand as close to him as I could without impeding either of our work, and outright flirt with him on every possible occasion. When he didn't reciprocate in any noticeable way, I thought he wasn't interested. I was wrong.

Bruce thought I was teasing him, and didn't mean any of it. He was preceding with caution because, while he liked me too, he didn't want to make false assumptions. He thought that he might ruin our friendship if he was interested in more than friendship and I wasn't.

Thankfully, we eventually figured out that the feeling was mutual. I'll never forget that day. We were going on twenty hours in the lab, because we were working on a data set that had Bruce just as enthralled as me, we were both tired, and a little punchy, so when I looked over at Bruce and saw him furrowing his brow and frowning at the data, I couldn't help myself. 

"Do you have any idea how sexy you are when you concentrate on something?" I purred. 

"Tony, stop it," he ordered weakly as his cheeks turned adorably red.

"Well, it's very sexy, but not as sexy as when you blush," I continued just to get a darker flush to creep into his cheeks and down his neck.

"Tony, someone might hear you. I get that you like to joke around and all, and that's fine, but if someone else hears and decides to join in . . .it might not be such a good idea," he warned.

"They wouldn't dare! **I** am the only one who gets to tease you like this. You're _**my**_ adorable Brucie, no one else's," I said without thinking.

"I'm _no one's_ adorable Brucie," he said firmly, and if I wasn't mistaken, a little sadly.

"You should be mine," I said earnestly, not sure where the words had come from.

"Tony . . . You don't mean that," he said looking down at the floor.

There was something about the slump of his shoulders, the defeat in his voice, and the almost imperceptible hurt in his eyes that hit me like a punch in the gut. He didn't think I meant it. He thought it was all some joke, and a cruel one at that, by the look of his face and his body language.

"I do," I said firmly, and driven by sleep-deprived courage, I closed the space between us and kissed him to _show_ him just how much I meant it.

"Oh," he whispered, as I broke the kiss.

"Yeah, 'oh.' So what do you say? Do you want to go on a date with me?" I asked, slightly nervous, despite all signs that Bruce was receptive to the idea.

"Okay, but first I need some sleep." 

Chapter 9: L-O-V-E

Our first date was followed by a second one, and a third one, and several more after that. We took things very slow for Bruce's peace of mind, and because we both kinda suck at the acknowledging our feelings thing. So we might not have said it, but we both always looked forward to our dates. It was like we couldn't get enough of each other.

Despite both of us admittedly not being the best at feelings, we really clicked together. As cliche as it sounds, I felt complete with him, and I still do. We just fit together like pieces of an interlocking jigsaw puzzle. I could talk about anything with him, from my feelings to what I had for lunch to cold fusion, and that was so thrilling. We could work and play together without having to slow down for the sake of the other, or getting tired of each other. It's truly a gift. One I didn't realize just how much I prized until one fairly typical evening.

Bruce was cooking for one of our "stay-in dates," and I was standing beside the stove pestering him as he smiled fondly and largely ignored me in favor of what he was doing. I watched him stir some seasoning into the sauce he was making while I rambled on about the benefits of a new prototype I had drawn up, and I realized that I would happily do what we were doing then every night for the rest of my life. It just felt right. 

The feeling was so overwhelming that I said, "I could do this forever."

"What? Annoy me? I'm sure you could, but I would ask that you don't. Even with you, there's only so much I can take before the Other Guy makes an appearance," Bruce joked with a half-smirk.

I pouted, even though I was slightly amused by his joke, because suddenly it really seemed important that he know what I meant.

"No, spend time with you. That's when I'm happiest. Even if it's just watching you cook. I just love spending time with you. . . . I . . .Bruce, I love you," I said, unsure why my train of thought had led me there, but knowing as I said it, that it was true.

For a horrifying full three seconds, (which had to be the longest three seconds in the history of mankind), Bruce stood there staring at me. My stomach dropped and I started to wonder if I was moving too fast. I didn't want to scare him away. He was a known flight risk, and if he left . . .

He licked his lips and replied, "I love you too, Tony."

That was all I needed to hear. I leaned in and claimed his mouth as my own for a few glorious seconds before he pushed me away. Something about "not wanting me to get burned on the stovetop" . . . .whatever.

Chapter 10: In which I wonder why I am writing this bullshit

I was told I should write a memoir. My advisory board said it would help garner good press and cast me as a more sympathetic character, and a bunch of other things that I didn't really pay attention to because I was thinking about how I was going to modify the repulsors in the suit once I got home. Anway, this whole book is some sort of publicity stunt, and I'm wondering why I should bother with it.

If I am getting bad press, I hardly think a sob story that casts me as "the poor little rich boy" will help much. Well, actually it might, but that's just screwed up. People are way too into other people's pain. It's pretty sick really.

At any rate, looking back on what I have written so far, I have come to a decision. I have decided to release this book on the thirty-second of Never. This, like most memoirs, is self-indulgent, self-congratulatory, and furthermore, boring. Not to mention I could fit the first several chapters on a single page, but then again that's probably because most of it is not worth remembering.

In fact, minus the parts with Bruce, none of it really is worth remembering. Before him, my life was a blur of meaningless moments. Some may have seemed memorable to people on the outside, but to me it was nothing. I was just surviving. That's all it was. I wasn't really living until I met him. 

I know, it's cliche and cheesy, but that's how I feel about him. That's why I managed to write more about him than anything else in this poor excuse for an attempt at a memoir . . Because he's what makes my life worthwhile. In fact, why am I still writing? I'm going to go tell him that, and then spent the evening with the man I love. JARVIS? Turn off dictation, this is the end.


End file.
